


Useless Gay Idiots

by starsteemer



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991)
Genre: Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pining, liquiroot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:06:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28815363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsteemer/pseuds/starsteemer
Summary: Bushroot decides to ask Liquidator out on a date.
Relationships: Reginald Bushroot/Liquidator, liqui
Comments: 9
Kudos: 15





	Useless Gay Idiots

**Author's Note:**

> Finally decided to post one of the things i've written for Liquiroot, idk if i'll be as active in the writing aspect of this ship as i've been in the art of it, but every little bit of content helps, right? 
> 
> As a sidenote, this is the 1991 version of the characters, but set in modern day bc it's easier to write.

This was it. Today was the day. Dr. Reginald Bushroot paced in the greenhouse, psyching himself up for possibly one of the hardest things he’d ever do. No, not robbing a bank or evading Darkwing Duck… 

He was going to ask Liquidator on a date. Which involved a little bit of confessing his feelings for him? He’d been hyping himself up to do it all morning, and even the plants in the greenhouse seemed tense, picking up on his anxious mood. He could hear their whispers in his head, encouraging him, soothing his nerves.  
“I’m going to do it. I’m going to do it. I’m going to do it.” Bushroot stopped his anxious pacing and looking at the phone sitting on the coffee table, then flinched, spinning away at the sight of it and frantically running his leafy fingers through his lavender petals, gripping and pulling them in a desperate panic. 

“I CAN’T. I CAN’T. I CAN’T DO IT. What if he says no!? What if.. What if he laughs at me?” The botanist felt his heart lurch at the idea. He’d never asked anyone on a date EVER. He’d dated once in highschool, but that lasted a week, because the girl had asked him because of a dare. And he wasn’t certain his ‘date’ with Rhoda quite counted. He hadn’t exactly asked, just.. Swept her off her feet. He thought it’d be romantic, but… Rhoda didn’t see it like that. She had rejected him, and he kept pushing and.... 

He’d decided that he never wanted to be rejected again. Had come to the conclusion that if he wanted anyone to love him, he had to design them to love him. But throughout his repeated attempts to make himself a wife, he found himself falling for that strong, dependable watery capitalist. More and more often he found himself wanting to be close, wanting to talk to him. He admired Liquidator, and thought… well, maybe since they were both mutants, and both criminals… maybe. Maybe.  
But the sting of rejection lingered in his lonely heart. His creations could not reject him, and Liquidator very well could. Doing this could change their friendship, or even push Liquidator away.

His heart (or approximation of a heart) was pounding like crazy. Just do it. Just do it. Just do it. Stop thinking about it and just do it.  
Overthinking this was getting him nowhere fast. It was this or the painful pining. The aching of desperately wanting to be close. He could put an end to the perpetual torture now or wallow in it forever.  
The botanist leapt for the phone, no longer giving his mind a choice. He had to do something. The smartphone was already on his contact, and all Reginald had to do was pick up the stylus and hit the green call button. The plant duck fumbled with the phone while he brought it up to his ear, the ringing resounding in his mind, his stomach churning. He could do this.  
Still, a part of him hoped he’d be sent to voicemail. 

An eternity passed. Well, not really. Maybe like, 20 seconds? Same difference. When the call went through, Bushroot’s heart skipped a beat. The sound of water sloshing in some kind of container was heard, before Liquidator’s watery voice answered him in his familiar showy tone.  
“You’ve reached The One and Only Liquidator, how may i be of service?” 

He sounded like a customer service employee. The fake overly friendly tone was a fun quirk of his, especially when he made it sound so sarcastic while dealing with any foes. But the impersonal business-minded quality immediately made Bushroot feel silly for interrupting it with his own emotional nonsense.  
“Liqqy! Hi, I…..I… how are you?”  
He inwardly cringed. 

There was a pause as The Liquidator considered this question thoughtfully, and answered in his silky-smooth salesman voice  
“Great now that I’m talking to my favorite customer. How can The Liquidator be of service, Reggie?” 

The nickname set his heart wildly aflutter, and for a terrifying moment the plant duck thought he’d choke. He started pacing again, one hand gesturing to nobody in particular while his other held the phone to his head.  
“Actually I… i.. I c-called to ask… um… I wanted to.. Ask….” He swallowed thickly, his tongue feeling tied and his words failing him. He was starting to panic. 

“Investors are standing by, Reginald.” The Liquidator encouraged, and he thought he could detect something of an amused smirk to his voice. 

“I.. wanted to… I’m… well..” Bushroot stopped pacing and squeezed his eyes shut, shouting it all out in a blur before his nerves rendered him unable to talk entirely.  
“I’M ASKING SOMEBODY OUT.” His heart thumped like a panicked caged bird in his chest, and without thinking he leapt onto the lie like it was a lifeline.  
“I’m asking somebody out and.. I wanted to ask for your …. Advice. T-tips, and.. Stuff.”

Bushroot held his breath, his internal diatribe railing against his mind for the stupid mistake. The mistake which he was now fully committed to.  
Coward. I’m a coward. He thought to himself pitifully as he was met with silence from Liquidator. 

After maybe ten seconds, Liquidator’s now subdued voice answered him.  
“You’re in luck, romantic advice is one of The Liquidator’s many core competencies. Consumers want to know, who’s the lucky lady?”

“Oh, uh…” Reginald sucked in a breath, opening his eyes and resuming his pacing. “A-actually, he’s a… man….”  
Clearly Bushroot had no choice now but to dig his own grave and then lie in it, right? 

“Oh. I see.” Liquidator sounded strange at that moment. Confused, maybe? Bushroot rushed to make sure that he wouldn’t make the totally embarrassing assumption that Bushroot was talking about him. 

“Y-yeah, I uh.. I m-met him in Possum Holler, just outside St. Canard… He’s uh, a rooster! Yeah, and uh… he runs this horse farm, and I just ran into him and… r-really liked him so I thought… er… oh, and his name is… Quinn!”  
Bushroot internally facepalmed at how deep a hole he was digging for himself. 

“Well, that is quite the paradigm shift. I’m afraid The Liquidator has… limited experience courting the same sex.”  
Bushroot’s heart dropped, and the subtle splashing on the other end made him feel adrift in a sea of… pathetic lovesick uselessness.  
“Perhaps you should find out his orientation before asking.”

“Yeah.. um… I’m pretty sure he’s uh.. Bisexual… he wears pins on his jacket.” Bushroot’s mind was racing. How could he have been such an idiot?? The entire time he’d been pining after Liquidator, he hadn’t even stopped to consider whether he liked guys? And from the way Liquidator had pointed out his inexperience, the prospects for him being into guys didn’t look good. 

“Happy to hear it!” Funny, Liquidator didn’t sound happy. He sounded strained, like a customer service employee patiently explaining that no you cannot return this item without a receipt to an irate customer.  
“The Liquidator can of course still supply you with more broad-use pointers. First, be confident! Second, be playful. Don’t take yourself or them too seriously, relax and just have fun. Third, ask him about himself! Notice the details and be genuine in your compliments.” 

Bushroot listened along with a grimace, an uncomfortable swirling dread building in his gut like an angry sea. He didn’t even feel in control of the words that spilled from his mouth like weak refrigerator magnets.  
“Uh.. thanks Liqqy. That um.. That helps a lot actually. Before i let you go, er, out of.. Curiosity… what.. What would you say your preferred orientation is?”

A beat. Then, a watery, somewhat nervous chuckle.  
“Straight of course, Reggie. The Liquidator is marketed for the female demographic.”

“Oh.”  
Bushroot’s world felt like it was spinning and rapidly collapsing. He hadn’t managed to ask Liquidator out and somehow still got rejected. Static seemed to be welling up in his mind, and everything felt like it was going.. Blank. He couldn’t think. He was shaking slightly from the adrenaline of it all and found he couldn’t breathe. Somehow, he managed to force his beak to work long enough to excuse himself from the call.  
“Th-thanks. I’m.. I'm gonna go ask out Quinn. Bye.”

Liquidator’s smooth voice came through the phone while Bushroot fumbled to find the stylus and end the call.  
“Reginald?” 

The concerned, almost affectionate way Liquidator said his name gave him pause, his fluttering heart feeling fragile enough as it was, but it couldn’t help but leap at the opportunity for hope. That maybe what Liquidator said next meant he’d have a chance.  
“Yeah?” Bushroot returned, feeling like he might be blown down by the smallest breeze. 

“Whoever you date will be lucky to have you.” The sincerity and tinge of regret in his tone was lost on Bushroot, whose hopes were succinctly shattered. 

“Bye Liqqy.” The catch in his throat forbade him from saying anything else, and as Bushroot pressed the stylus to the button to hang up, he felt like collapsing. He set the phone on the coffee table nearby and grabbed fistfuls of his lilac hair in his hands, clenching his teeth in a pained grimace as if he could forcefully hold back the sheer frustration, disappointment, and despair. He backed up until he hit a tree, whose slow and ambling voice came to him telepathically, murmuring its offer to support him until he felt ok. The devastated plant duck slid down the trunk until he was sitting with his back against it, burying his face in his hands and releasing his breath in a desolate sob. 

He felt so hopeless, so naïve, so foolish. And the worst part of it all was that he didn’t think he could stop being hopelessly in love with his best friend if he tried. He needed Liquidator.  
But needing and getting don't always go together.

**Author's Note:**

> For those wondering, Bushroot is able to use a phone despite his leaf hands thanks to a phone stylus. 
> 
> And Liquidator can use a phone thanks to waterproofing, and also a combination of gloves and a stylus. It's a pain but they make it work hahah


End file.
